Dating Chronicles: The Third Wheel

I met Mr. W at the W Hotel's infamous Ghost Bar in Dallas, TX. Little ole me, made feeble attempts to get the bartender's attention; Mr W observed this and offered to speak on my behalf. Once he flagged down the bartender, I was finally able to order my drink, and once the bill came, Mr. W put it on his tab. We began conversing while I waited for my drink, and though he didn't physically appear to be the type of guy I was attracted to, he had great conversation. About an hour into our conversation, he invited me to lunch. I was only in town for a few days, so we agreed that lunch the next day would work for both of us.

The next day our lunch date was set for 2pm. I was staying at a downtown hotel and the restaurant was on the other side of town, so Mr W offered to be my chauffeur. Though I generally make it a point to drive my own vehicle on the 1st few dates, I obliged given the circumstances. As I stood outside waiting for him to arrive I couldn't help but notice the car that pulled up to the front of the hotel. With its music BLARING and 22" rims, a candy-painted Chrysler 300 stopped a few feet beyond where I was standing. The limo tinted windows obstructed my view inside of the vehicle, so I was unable to see inside. I shook my head at the stereotypical image in front of me. A few seconds later, my phone rang. It was Mr W. He was in the car with the loud music. Strike 1.

As I approached the passenger side of the car, the door flung open and out came a 6 foot something guy with a white t-shirt and some Air Force Ones. It wasn't Mr W. It was one of his friends. I recognized him from the other night at the Ghost Bar. He introduced himself as "Tim". I spoke cordially, he gave me a head nod and then hopped in the back seat. Strike 2.

The entire ride to the restaurant the music was at 100 when I need it to be at 20. There was no conversation- I mean, how could there be? Several times I thought about asking him to tone it down a bit, but I just couldn't get up the nerve.

We arrived at the restaurant- Olive Garden, where we were seated in a booth. I slid in on one side and he slid in on the opposite, with "Tim" occupying the seat to his right. Strike 3.

The entire 63 minutes we were at lunch, I barely said a word. Aside from placing my order with the waiter and a few other occasional comments here and there, I kept my mouth shut and just observed. The two buddies entertained each other while I sat fiddling with the sub-par Italian cuisine that sat before me. I was unimpressed with the whole outing. I could not wait to get back to my hotel room!

We proceeded to get back into the pimped out car with the music booming through the sub-woofers (or whatever you call those loud azz speakers). As we approached the hotel, he turned down the volume and told me that he had a great time and would call me later that evening. He even suggested hanging out later that night. NOT!

About 20 minutes after dropping me off, MR W sent me a text message saying: "You are so damn sexy it took everything in me not to hem you up!" Strike 4. First off, I hate when men refer to me as sexy and they don't even know me. It is so lustful. Secondly, my attire for the day was very modest and did not include any scantily clad or "sexy" clothing.

So my thoughts are this: "Ok, so maybe I have natural sex appeal- I don't doubt that. But please refrain from calling me Sexy! And dude, last time I checked, you were more engaged with your homeboy that tagged along with us, than you were with me! NOT.HOT."

I guess that's one of the reasons why he is 36 and single. Needless to say, I have not spoken to Mr W since. That was our first and last date.

CALGON TAKE ME AWAY!